The Guardian gods-Chapter 820
He looked down at the pale Queen, then at the glowing seed in the bowl, his laughter echoing off the cold stone walls. In his mind, he wasn’t a failure or a monster, he was the forefather of a new era. His people wouldn’t just be saved, they would be reborn.
Erik didn’t need to shout, his voice, carried by the lingering thrum of mana in the room, reached his children wherever they were in the palace. "Eldrin, Alinar. Come to me." He spoke the command into the cold air and waited, his gaze never leaving the seed.
When the heavy doors to the laboratory finally creaked open, the two heirs entered, presenting a stark contrast in their demeanor. Eldrin, the Crown Prince, walked with a stride heavy with frustration, his brow furrowed in a permanent scowl of annoyance. Behind him, Alinar, the first daughter, followed with a serene smile pn her face.
The annoyance on Eldrin’s face vanished instantly, replaced by a sharp, lethal clarity the moment he saw his mother’s limp, ghostly figure cradled in Erik’s arms.
In a heartbeat, a shimmering spear manifested in Eldrin’s grip. He leveled the point at his father, his eyes cold and devoid of familial warmth. "What have you done now?" the Prince demanded, his voice low and vibrating with a promise of violence.
The sheer bluntness of the accusation caught Erik off guard. For a second, the King felt the sting of it, the realization that his own flesh and blood saw him not as a father or a savior, but as a threat to be neutralized. But the sting was quickly swallowed by a surge of dark, mocking amusement.
A crooked smile spread across Erik’s face as he looked at the spear. He couldn’t entirely blame the boy, his actions over the past years had been the work of a madman in the eyes of any sane observer. Yet, even with that understanding, the sight of his "seed" ready to spill his blood for the sake of the Queen brought a bitter, twisted irony to the moment.
"Lower your toy, Eldrin," Erik said, his voice eerily calm as he tightened his hold on the Queen. "I have not destroyed her. I have made her the first of a new world. Look at her hand and tell me if you truly wish to stop what is coming."
Alinar moved with a fluid grace, slipping past her brother’s leveled spear. She knelt beside Erik, her palm igniting with a soft green glow that stirred a miniature swirl of spectral leaves, a manifestation of the burgeoning elven connection to nature she was developing. She placed her hand on her mother’s forehead, her brow knitting in confusion.
"What is wrong with mother, father?" she asked softly. Her magic could sense no disease, no internal trauma, and no curse she recognized, only a terrifying, hollow void where nearly half of the Queen’s lifeblood should have been.
Erik shifted his gaze between his defiant son and his inquisitive daughter. With a voice that carried the weight of a man who had finally seen the "truth," he began to explain the bargain, the seed of Osisi, and the compromise Siren had orchestrated. Eldrin listened in stony silence, eventually dismissing his spear into a mist of light, though the scowl remained etched into his face. He offered no apology for his threat, and Erik, recognizing the steel in his son, expected none.
Gently, Erik transferred the Queen’s frail form into Alinar’s arms. "Your mother needs careful, constant care during this period of transition," he commanded.
He stood up, his height seeming more imposing than ever as the pink glow of the seed reflected in his eyes. He turned to Eldrin.
"Your brother and I will make a run through the kingdom. We will ensure the blood of every one of our subjects is collected and fed to the seed. It requires their nourishment to grow, and in exchange, it will grant them the half-blood status they need to survive this realm decay."
He looked at the doors, his mind already calculating the logistics of the harvest. "The earlier we complete this, the sooner your mother returns to her full health, and the sooner the fractured pieces of this family and this kingdom might finally look right again."
Alinar stood with grace, the weight of the Queen in her arms seeming to cost her no effort. She offered a final, lingering look at her father and brother, one filled with a strange, burgeoning wisdom before turning to carry her mother toward the royal chambers. "Take care, Father," she murmured. "You too, brother."
As the doors closed behind her, a heavy silence settled over the laboratory. The air still tasted of Siren’s sweet, metallic drool.
"Where do you think the seed should be planted?" Erik asked, finally breaking the quiet.
Eldrin raised a sharp brow, surprised that his father was soliciting his opinion after months of unilateral madness. The Prince paced the length of the stone floor, his boots clicking rhythmically as he fell into deep thought. The annoyance that usually clouded his features was replaced by a thoughtful look.
"It certainly would make sense to plant it within the palace grounds for protection," Eldrin mused, his voice echoing. "But as the Arch Curse stated, it is meant to become something of monumental importance to our people. It is the anchor of their new identity."
He stopped pacing and turned to face his father, the pink glow of the seed reflecting in his hard eyes. "It would make no sense to have something this vital out in the open where a desperate mob or a foreign hands could lay hands on it. Yet, if we hide it too deeply, how can it serve as the heart of the kingdom?"
"I thought the same," Erik admitted with a heavy sigh, rubbing his temples. "It is a paradox. It must be accessible enough to nourish the populace and represent their rebirth, but it cannot be left in a place where it could easily be taken advantage of or worse, destroyed by those who fear what we are becoming."
A flicker of emerald light seemed to dance in Eldrin’s memory, softening the hard lines of his face for a fleeting second. He looked at Erik with a sudden, distant look. "I remember when I was young, Father," he said, his voice dropping to a low, remembrance tone. "You often took me to visit a friend of yours. A figure who lived within the ancient boughs, who loved the green and the silent growth of the world."
The Prince’s gaze sharpened as he focused back on the present. "It has been many years, but I believe the nature of this seed and the potential of what it will become would catch the interest of that old friend. If we can convince him, we gain more than just a sanctuary, we gain a guardian of great strength."
Erik stared at his son, the cogs of his memory grinding until the image of a Great Green Shadow manifested in his mind. "Are you talking about Viridrigon?" he asked, his voice hushed with a mix of awe and skepticism.
Eldrin nodded firmly, but Erik immediately shook his head, a weary sigh escaping him.
"I have told you before of the Dragon’s Pact with this world, Eldrin," Erik reminded him, his tone bordering on a lecture. "They are the silent observers. They rarely, if ever, interfere with the petty squabbles or the shifting tides of the mortal realms. Viridrigon may have been a friend to my younger self, but he owes us nothing. Why would he break his neutrality for a cursed king and a seed born of theft and blood?"
Erik looked down at the pink, glowing seed, "To a dragon, our people transformation into halflings is but a blink in time. It would be no different this time, he will watch us fall or rise, and he will do so without moving a single claw."
Eldrin shook his head, cunning glint replacing his usual annoyance. "I understand the Dragon’s nature well, Father. But we are not asking him to interfere in politics, nor are we asking him to solve our crisis. We are simply offering him a rare gift, something to break the monotony of his immortal, unchanging life."
The Prince leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a persuasive silk. "It is a gift we both know he would appreciate. A new life, a new essence. And if he accepts it into his domain, his mere presence becomes the ultimate deterrent. His appreciation of the seed would be our greatest security."
Erik fell into a long, heavy silence, his mind weighing the arrogance of the plan against its sheer brilliance. To use a Dragon not as an ally, but as a prestigious gardener was a gamble of the highest order. Finally, he waved his hand, dismissing the immediate debate.
"There is still much to be done before the planting, and before we seek out such a guardian," Erik stated, his tone shifting back to that of a monarch. "We begin here, in the capital. With the ones who have already fallen, the cursed beings roaming our streets."
